Block Leave Recap

Just thought I'd share a few highlights of my trip to Colorado, now that I've had a bit to collect my memories.

- My dad and I fly fishing for three days on the North Platte and various other waters, which was predictably slow but nonetheless enjoyable. We caught some nice fish, and had a great time.

- Three of my friends joining me for another two days of fishing on the Platte. All but one of us caught fish. The slow pace of the fishing was compensated for by my ever-present backpack full of beer. Win.

- Watching the Broncos win. Go Broncos!

- Rolling around Fort Collins with Uncle Wade (no relation) in his beater work truck which is without a stereo system. Instead of installing a system, Wade has a ghetto battery-powered CD/cassette player (a boombox, if you will), and a shitload of old country and rock tapes. Wade finds it funny to roll down his window and hold up his stereo with an old Garth tape cranked up, yelling at girls on the street to ask, "HEY GIRL, YOU LIKE THE WAY I DANGLE?"

- Generally, girls do not like the way he dangles, but some at least have the courtesy to laugh.

- Halloween party. Costume parties are always insane, and this was no exception.

That's all I really should post, but if you were there, you know the rest. Never a dull moment!

I'm back on the grind now, though. So be it. Got another two weeks of leave coming up for Christmas, and I'm seriously considering spending it in Colorado again. We shall see.

All for now.

Back in 'Nam

Well, despite the best efforts of Sandy, the weather was suitably decent for travel and I made it here without any delays. A haircut and a shave later, and I look like a 16-year old paratrooper versus my previous mid-20s vagrant.

That was without a doubt the best block leave I've had yet. I'm blessed to have such wonderful friends (and of course my family) who enjoy my shenanigans and create some more of their own.

Anyway, morale is very low right now. Returning here after a stretch of leave is the single hardest part of my job. Two more years, Jack, just two more years...

Life.

I have to go back to work tomorrow.

I have to shave my awesome homeless man beard tomorrow.

This is seriously fucked up.

I've had nothing but fun and done some fantastically, unmentionably awful things since I've been home. The only redeeming part of heading back to Braggdad tomorrow is that I get to hop behind the wheel of my land rocket, Vanessa. It'll feel nice to drive a vehicle in which I know I dominate my landscape. What I've been piloting lately has glacial acceleration, which does not at all suit me.

Anyway, sorry about my stream of drunken consciousness. In eight hours, I'll be leaving the greatest place in the world (which happens to be filled with most of my best friends) and rolling back to fucking Fayettenam... what the fuck, over.

Peace

An Open Letter

To a very beautiful blonde girl at the bar in downtown Fort Collins:

I don't remember your name. I didn't get your number, which I am kicking myself for. But that was by far the most fun I've ever had making out in a public place. So if you by chance end up seeing this... get a hold of me somehow.

All for now. Back to work in 24 hours or so. Please shoot me.

Out

Insomnia Sucks

0200 Monday morning. Can't sleep. Fuck this.

Just poured myself about four fingers of The Macallan Cask Strength. Perhaps I'll be more inclined to sleep if I'm a bit in the bag...

I'm on leave in Colorado right now, so other than my inability to shut my eyes for an extended period of time, life is great. I haven't shaved in ten days, and look vaguely homeless as a result. I know this, and I'm okay with it.

I've been at the mountain house for just shy of a week now - fishing, shooting, chilling. Got to hang out with my old man a bunch and had a few friends up for the weekend, which was fun. We drank way too much, but so be it. Saturday night my friends and I consumed enough alcohol to literally kill most people, consisting of tons of microbrews, scotch, a bottle of Evan Williams Single Barrel (best whiskey in the $25 range, arguably) and whatever else we found. Totally emptied the fridge, which was no small feat. Anyway.

Back to Fort Collins in a few hours... good thing dad's driving, because this aviation fuel mislabeled as scotch is very intoxicating. Normal people use $70 single malt to go to sleep, right? Fuck it, I'm not interested in being normal anyway, so why bother pretending?

Whiskey's gone. Time to watch the inside of my eyelids for awhile. Deuces.

Work's Overrated

So I'm going fishing tomorrow.

I considered watching the debates online tonight (since I don't have cable) but elected to do something productive instead - drinking and playing video games.

The stupidity of the presidential campaign continues... posturing, name-calling, and not much else, unless you believe everyone's lies. Elections are proof positive that people in general have a short memory - has any successful candidate in history ever lived up to even half of their campaign promises? If you actually buy into their self-promoting claims of brilliance and understanding, you might be a dipshit. Same goes for anyone who thinks that anything other than the economy is an important issue at this point; that goes for both sides of the political spectrum. Shame on you people. Anyway, I'll stop.

So. Driving Vanessa to the Smokies tomorrow, and Knoxville the next day. I really would like to post pictures of her, but my camera is incompatible with Mac OS, making life difficult. Thanks, Panasonic. Let's just say it'll be a loud and acoustically pleasing road trip. Silently praying for a ZL1 or GT500 to try and run me.

Well, I have PT in like 8 hours, which is complete bullshit.

Deuces